Paging through his new cookbook with chef Donald Link is like looking at a family scrapbook, one with recipes and photographs that make you want to run into the kitchen and prepare the food.

"That's Billy Link, " Link says, pointing to a photo of one of his cousins, posing with the chef on a tarp-covered boat. Link's favorite photo in the book is one of him dancing with his 9-year-old daughter, Cassidy.

Debuting this month, "Real Cajun: Rustic Home Cooking From Donald Link's Louisiana" (Potter, $35) is about the chef's big family and its profound influence, what he grew up eating, why he so loves the smell of rice cooking. Boudin, bacon and beer are constant themes.

It's about much more than his New Orleans operations: Herbsaint, Cochon and Cochon Butcher. But after reading the book, it's clear why Cochon and Cochon Butcher exist. Link's love of pork and rice is in his DNA, he writes.

Link's great-great-grandfather immigrated to Rayne with 40 other families from Geilenkirchen, Germany, in 1881, settling in Robert's Cove. He is credited with being the first person to ship rice to New Orleans. The family brought recipes, still in use, for making sausage.

"Real Cajun: Rustic Home Cooking From Donald Link's Louisiana" (Potter, $35) is about the chef's big family and its profound influence, what he grew up eating, why he so loves the smell of rice cooking.

"Everybody, when they talk about Cajun food, they talk about the French and the zydeco music. But if you think about it, the Germans played a huge role in modern Cajun cuisine, with the rice farming, crawfish farming and sausage making, " Link said last week.

"I'm on a mission to prove andouille is a German sausage, not French . . . The Germans brought over the sausage, and the French named it."

Link's grandparents lived in Sulphur. His mother's parents were from Alabama originally, and his Granddad Adams, a Southern-style cook, was "a big influence here at Cochon, " Link said.

His paternal grandmother "did pretty basic Cajun: smothered pork over rice, gumbo, rice dressing, anything with rice. Of course, they were rice farmers. And that Granddad was all over the place. He did everything. He was really my true inspiration for cooking, " Link said.

"He'd go in the kitchen and make eight or nine things. He'd have a squirrel with the head on sitting on the table, everything he'd gathered over the week. Then the whole family would come over, 35 people, and he'd cook for everybody.

"I have just amazing memories of growing up in Louisiana with food."

Link worked on the book with Paula Disbrowe, who also cowrote the very successful "Crescent City Cooking" with Link's mentor, chef Susan Spicer. Clarkson Potter won the rights to publish the book after four or five publishers accepted their book proposal.

"That's how I grew up, going to food festivals, hanging out under the carport, fishing on Big Lake and shrimping with my dad. That's more what I wanted to convey. It's not a restaurant cookbook."

He fought to get to work with Chris Granger, the Times-Picayune photographer whose freelance work includes Spicer's cookbook. Granger, who grew up in Lake Charles, traveled extensively with Link to the festivals, the sausage-making sessions, the crawfish boils and the family camp, where they made etouffee on the big covered patio while it was raining.

"This is J.W., " Link said, pointing to a photo of cousin J.W. Zaunbrecher. He turned the page. "And this is one of J.W.'s pigs he trapped. Chris got in the cage with him" to take the photo.

The beady eyes of the feral pig stare out at the reader. Flip to the next page and there's a close-up of homemade bacon.

"Writing this got me a lot more involved in that area and way of life, " Link said. "I've always known about it, but I've never really hung out with them until I started writing the book: making sausage with them, going to crawfish boils, going dancing at Bubba Frey's, " his cousin who owns the Mowata General Store.

"It's been an amazing experience to connect with somebody like that. He's got this little store. He raises guinea hens, has turtles in a bucket outside. He has a little garden. He just kind of does what he wants. My dad will talk about that. These people just live in their own world out there. I find it incredibly fascinating."

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Courtesy of Chris Granger Smothered Pork Roast over Rice.

"Whenever we drove into Granny's driveway, we would know when she was cooking this dish because its rich aroma would hit us as soon as we stepped out of the car, " Link writes in the new cookbook. "This roast embodies the simple, not necessarily spicy, style of Cajun cooking."

Smothered Pork Roast over Rice

Makes 8 to 10 servings

1 (6- to 7-pound) boneless pork roast (shoulder or butt)

Kosher salt and ground black pepper

2 large onions, thinly sliced

8 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

3 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves

1 tablespoon dried rosemary, crumbled

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter

½ cup all-purpose flour

4 cups chicken broth

Juice of ½ lemon (optional)

Steamed rice

Preheat the oven to 275 degrees. Season the pork very generously with salt and pepper, rubbing the seasonings into the fat and flesh of the meat. Set the roast aside for at least 30 minutes or up to 1 hour at room temperature.

Combine the onions, garlic, thyme and rosemary in a medium mixing bowl and toss to combine. Heat the vegetable oil in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat. When the oil is very hot, sear the meat on all sides until deeply browned and crusty, 10 to 12 minutes.

Transfer the meat to a plate, reduce the heat to medium, and then stir in the butter. When melted, stir in the flour to make a roux and continue to cook, stirring, until the roux turns a dark peanut butter color, about 10 minutes.

Add the onion mixture and cook, stirring, until all the ingredients are well coated and the mixture is thick. Whisk in the chicken broth and bring to a simmer, stirring constantly. Return the pork to the Dutch oven, spoon some of the onion mixture over the meat, cover, and roast for about 3 hours, turning and basting the pork every 30 minutes or so, until the meat will break apart when pressed gently with a fork.

At this point, you can serve the roast right out of the pan, or transfer it to a plate, then simmer the pan drippings, skimming off excess fat, until reduced by about one-third, or until it coats the back of a spoon. Add the lemon juice and taste for seasonings.

Before serving, sprinkle the roast with some additional salt. Serve the roast smothered with a generous amount of sauce and hot steamed rice.

. . . . . . .

Cast Iron Hush Puppies

Makes 4 servings

½ small onion, chopped

1 small jalapeno, chopped

1 bunch scallions, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons minced parsley

1 cup yellow cornmeal

½ cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon sugar

2 ½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon dried thyme

¼ teaspoon cayenne

¾ cup whole milk

1 egg

Vegetable oil, for frying

Combine onion, jalapeno, scallions and parsley in a food processor or blender, and pulse to a rough puree.

Whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, thyme and cayenne in a small bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together the milk and egg. Add the vegetable puree and stir to combine. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir until combined. For best results, refrigerate the batter for at least 30 minutes before frying.

Heat 3 inches of oil in a 4- to 5-quart heavy pot (preferably cast iron) over high heat until it reaches 350 degrees. Carefully add the batter to the hot oil 1 heaping tablespoon at a time, working in batches of six; use another spoon to scrape the batter into the oil, keeping it in a ball shape.

Fry, turning, until golden, 2 to 3 minutes, then transfer with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain briefly. Transfer the hush puppies to a shallow baking pan and keep hot in a 200-degree oven while frying remaining batter. Heat the oil back to 350 degrees between batches.

. . . . . . .

Link says he has worked on perfecting this recipe for "the king of Cajun food" for years. Boudin is his favorite thing in the world to eat.

My Boudin

Makes 4 pounds

2 pounds boneless pork shoulder, cut in 1-inch cubes

½ pound pork liver, cut in 1-inch cubes

1 small onion, chopped

2 celery stalks, chopped

1 poblano chile, chopped

3 jalapenos, chopped

6 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped

4 tablespoons kosher salt

1 tablespoon ground black pepper

1 tablespoon ground white pepper

½ teaspoon curing salt*

1 teaspoon cayenne

1 teaspoon chili powder

7 cups cooked white rice

1 cup chopped fresh parsley

1 cup chopped scallions

4 to 6 feet sausage casings (optional), rinsed

Combine pork, liver, vegetables and seasonings in a bowl. Cover, refrigerate and marinate for 1 hour or overnight. Place mixture in a large pot and cover the meat with water (by 1 to 2 inches). Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer until the meat is tender, about 1 hour and 45 minutes.

Remove pot from the heat and strain, reserving the liquid. Allow the mixture to cool slightly, then put the solids through a meat grinder set on coarse grind. (Or chop with a knife.)

Place the meat in a large bowl. With a wooden spoon or rubber spatula, mix in rice, parsley, scallions and the reserved cooking liquid. Stir vigorously for 5 minutes. (Mixture will look very wet, and it's spicy. After poaching, the rice absorbs the moisture and much of the spice.)

At this point, you can feed the sausage into the casings. Poach the links gently in hot (not bubbling) water for about 10 minutes, then serve. Alternatively, use the mixture as stuffing for chicken, or roll it into boudin balls, dredge in bread crumbs, and fry in hot oil until golden brown.

Note: To eat fresh, hot, poached boudin, bite into the link and use your teeth and fingers to pull the meat gently out of its soft casing. (The casings are eaten only when the boudin is grilled or smoked, and they become crisp.)